The Gift
by lachlanrose
Summary: There's just something about getting away on vacation that makes it easier to give in and do all the things you'd never dream of doing back home…
1. The Necklace

**Title:** The Gift  
**Author:** lachlanrose  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Clearly, this is an oversight by the universe.  
**Feedback:** Is better than a hot fudge sundae. The good, the bad, the ugly, welcome. Flames may be publicly mocked.  
**Summary:** There's just something about getting away on vacation that makes it easier to give in and do all the things you'd never dream of doing back home…  
**Author's Notes:** This one is a little three part story. Bunnies, bunnies everywhere… It's gonna have the (by now) standard warning: _This fic is adult in theme and content._ **You have been warned**. Though I think it's safe to say by now that y'all know what you're getting into. It's me, after all… Heh. The Earth might stop spinning if I wrote something without a citrus grove in it. In any event, this one's a little more on the, ah, edgier/adult side of things, so if you're expecting hearts and flowers, well… exit stage left and try not to look at anything on your way out lest it leaves you scarred for life. A special thanks to doctorg who sorted this one out at the last minute, listened to me whine, and fixed all my screwed up tenses. She's awesome like that.

* * *

**The Gift **

**[Marie]**

It was the first time we'd gone away together. A week in Montreal. We spent the last morning in bed, talking mostly. My body ached pleasantly from Logan's lovemaking. He woke me twice more in the night and once just as the first gray light of dawn was beginning to filter through the window. I was supposed to be leaving for home in a few hours and he was supposed to be heading back to the school, but we couldn't get enough of each other. He called the school and cleared his schedule for the next three days and then he called the airline and moved my flight home after he'd convinced me to stay with him a little longer.

It really wasn't that difficult a decision to make. We were in the first blush of an intense romance. Neither of us was ready to let go just yet. It was too new, too consuming to bear parting so soon. We ordered up and ate breakfast in bed amid dozens of bruised rose petals from last night when Logan had ripped the petals from a bouquet in our room and thrown them on the bed. They'd tickled as they fluttered around us, clinging to our sweaty bodies. We giggled and flirted and wrestled playfully. That time we broke the teapot. Later, we broke a vase in the bathroom when our loveplay spilled out of the shower to the vanity, and then to the floor when it really got wild.

We emerged from the suite around noon, pink-cheeked and giddy. Logan wanted food. Red meat. Potatoes. Beer. I was mortified at the idea of the cleaners discovering our rose-strewn love nest and the trail of broken glassware, but Logan only laughed and pulled me towards the elevator with a smug grin. He told me he wanted the room cleaned so he could wreck it with me again. I stuck my tongue out at him and told him he still smelled of roses. He shrugged, pinned me to the wall of the elevator and kissed me passionately until we reached the lobby.

After a leisurely lunch, we took a long walk—sightseeing, window shopping, stopping to kiss and touch whenever the mood struck. He kept wanting to buy me things. I kept refusing. I didn't need a gift from him to feel special. I told him so. He gave me a look that quite clearly said I might have won the battle but I hadn't won the war. We walked on, in and out of dozens of little shops. He bought a watch for himself and then in another shop, a box of truffles he told me with a dirty wink were for later.

He bought an extra one, popped it into his mouth and proceeded to kiss me senseless right there in the chocolatier. The shopkeeper said something in a language I didn't understand but Logan lifted his head, grinned widely and said, "Thanks, bub. I'm aimin' to."

My head was still spinning from that amaretto-flavored kiss when he pulled me into a nice jewelry store. We had a bit of fun playing the 'if' game. As in, _if I was to buy you something, what would you pick?_ We'd been playing it since almost the first shop we wandered into. And not just for ourselves. We'd mentally picked out dozens of things for all the people we cared about back at the school.

He stopped in front of a case of exquisite pearl jewelry, everything from simple pearl earrings to elaborate multi-stranded, diamond encrusted pearl chokers.

"Which one?" he murmured against my neck, kissing me lightly.

"For who?"

"For you this time, darlin'."

I took my time deciding, partly because there were so many choices and partly because the longer it took, the more time I got to spend with Logan's arms wrapped around me. I gave him a squeeze. It was just a game, anyway. "Which would you pick?"

His eyes left my neck to wander the case. "That one." He pointed to a choker with three strands of dark beige pearls. They were the color of coffee with cream and had a tinge of rose as well. Very unusual. He whispered in my ear. "Color of your skin when you blush for me." He nuzzled my neck. "Now you pick."

"Those." I pointed to a single strand of pearls on the bottom shelf of the case. Smaller in size than the pearls in the choker he favored, but of the same unusual color.

He smiled. "You gonna let me get ya somethin'?" His tone said he'd already made up his mind. The Wolverine didn't ask permission. I started to protest but he was whispering again. "I wanna." I felt him start to grow hard against my hip. "And I wanna give you a pearl necklace of my own," he breathed into my ear. My whole body shuddered.

"You don't have to buy me anything to do that." The words were out before I could call them back. Logan inhaled sharply and I felt my cheeks heat. I turned and hid my face in his neck. I'd never done that with anyone. To be honest, I'd never even considered it.

His voice was whisper soft. "Lemme give ya both, then." I nodded, unable to find my voice. Logan straightened, but left his arm around me. One look from him and the jeweler, who had been discreetly watching from a distance, came over to us.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"I want those." Logan pointed to the pearls.

The jeweler removed the pearls from the case and set them on the counter for Logan to inspect. He didn't look twice and he didn't ask the price. The man nodded. "Very fine choice, sir. Will the lady be wearing them home?"

Logan's smile widened and he rubbed the rough pad of his thumb over the nape of my neck.

"Nope."

**~ooOoo~**

**[Logan]**

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. More shops, more kissin', a long dinner at a little hole-in-the-wall Thai place. Inside their velvet-lined case, the pearls were burnin' a hole in my pocket. I was dyin' to see them on her. Couldn't think of much else. Had a bit of a wrench thrown into my plans when we got back to the hotel though. We were just comin' in the door when Marie's phone went off. Crazy Train. Made me laugh and then groan. We've been together long enough now for me to recognize that ring. That little yellow one's always findin' ways to annoy the shit outta me.

"Mmph." Fuck. I tried not to let my disappointment show. Must have done too good a job because her eyes glowed happily.

"Do you mind, sugar? She promised me she'd only call if it was an emergency. She's in Paris with Remy, so she's either engaged, pregnant, or locked inside the flagship Louboutin store."

The fact that she cared enough to ask me went a long way toward soothin' my ruffled feathers. Besides, there was no way to tell her 'yes' without sounding like a complete dick, even if I did wanna have her all to myself. I didn't wanna share her, even with her little friends. Inside, an absolutely insane irrational spurt of jealousy rose up, red and hot. Clawin' at me. I clenched my teeth and swallowed it down. "Go ahead, baby. I gotta little work to do."

Two fucking hours. I'd already finished what little work I did have, and now I was sittin' out on the balcony in the dark, broodin'. I wanted to smash that goddamn phone of hers. I settled for stalkin' her through the suite for a while until the shrill voices screechin' outta her phone drive me back out to the balcony. But not before I made it damn clear I was done waitin'. Fuck that. This was our trip. Our time. And we didn't have much of it left. I was done sharin' her.

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Up next: **The Balcony**. Logan's not a patient man. He wants what he wants when he wants it — and to hell with the consequences...


	2. The Balcony

**[Marie]**

I found Logan sitting on the balcony, smoking. A bottle of bourbon and a closed manilla file sat on the table in front of him. The slim case containing the pearl necklace was next to it, deliberately left open. They glowed softly in the moonlight, iridescent and luminous against the backdrop of velvety black. The only other illumination came from the twinkling lights of the city. Even our suite was dark. It made the space more intimate, but there was a hint of malevolence as well. The night was dark but Logan's mood was darker.

The tip of his cigar glowed red. He blew a stream of smoke skyward. "Nice you could join me." Another glow of red. More smoke. "Our time here's runnin' out. I was wonderin' how much more of it you planned on wastin'."

I smiled at the obvious irritation in his voice, but he wasn't truly mad or he'd have been silent and withdrawn. He'd fetched me for a reason and I was fairly certain I knew what it was. Seeing the pearls lying there against the velvet was making my knees weak. He didn't mention them. Neither did I. And yet their presence seemed to electrify us. I decided to wind him up a little more, wondering how far he'd go. "You think you're the best fun a girl can have on a Friday night, sugar?"

"I don't think I am." He paused. "I know I am." He stood and flicked the butt of his cigar over the side of the rail. I was suddenly struck by our differences, how much bigger and stronger he was. How much more powerful. He had an imposing presence and he was using it to his advantage now. I was instantly, shockingly wet. His body jerked slightly and his eyes flashed gold, wild and fierce as he stalked closer. He'd never been this way with me but we were both ripe for it, ready for something edgier.

Raunchier.

He crowded me with his body, driving me towards the edge of the balcony. His voice growling low in my ear. "Hands on the rail." He still hadn't touched me but I felt the heat of his body so close behind mine. "Hands on the fuckin' rail, darlin'. Now." As soon as I complied, his arms came up and his big hands gripped the rail on the outside of mine. Still, not a single touch. My knuckles were white on the railing, my breathing already growing shallow with anticipation.

He chuckled darkly and then looked out at the lights of the city, still never taking his lips from my ear. "You ever done it outside? With people nearby?" I shook my head 'no'. There was nobody directly above us but there was a couple having a late dinner on the balcony directly below ours. He leaned into me then, a full body press that had me gasping. "You make a noise, they'll hear." Sex voice, low and smoky in my ear. "You take your hands off the rail, I walk away." He licked my neck and nipped me hard enough to make me gasp. "Those are the terms. Nod once if you agree, baby."

I nodded. "Good girl." My legs shook. He'd barely begun and I was already aching for him. I'd left my skirt on but taken my panties off before I'd come out here to him. I felt a trickle of wetness run down my thigh and bit my lip to keep from begging him to touch me. His hands left the rail. One fisted in my hair, the other stroked the length of my neck, forcing my head up. That whiskey voice whispered in my ear. "See that pool down there?"

I did. The hotel pool. It was one of those built to resemble a lagoon, irregularly shaped, plants all around, waterfalls, underwater lights that gave the whole thing a deep green glow. Like Logan's eyes, only deeper. Stormier. He ground himself against my bottom and reached around me to fondle my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingertips. His mouth never left my ear. He poured out his fantasy to me, sparing nothing. Fucking me there in the pool, from behind like an animal. Cock in one hole, fingers in the other, not caring who saw. Wanting me to beg him. Wanting other men to see us so they would know I was taken. That I was _his_.

A man's fantasy uncensored. Graphic. Crude. It was the most erotic thing I'd ever heard. My lover sharing something private with me, something more intimate than sex. Trusting me enough to share something vulnerable with me, even as his physical presence dominated me. He talked me to orgasm while exploring me with his hands. His body covering mine, my skirt pushed up over my hips, his fingers buried so deep in me from behind, like an echo of his fantasy.

His breath was hot against my neck. "Christ — That's it. Fuck yourself back at me, darlin'. Show me how much you want it. Let me feel you wantin' me." Forceful words. Needy words. "Come for me. Come on!"

My orgasm was shockingly intense. I bit my arm to keep from screaming. Only the steel of his arm around my waist kept me from losing my feet. Blood pounded in my ears. Sweat prickled under my arms and at the small of my back. My body contracted wetly, greedily gripping at his fingers. My hips pushed back at him in a lewd display of female need. Letting my mask slip a little, sharing a vulnerability with him as he had shared his with me.

Afterward, he held me tight, but only until he was certain my legs were steady enough to hold me. It was a short span of time but intensely intimate. His forehead was resting between my shoulder blades, one arm was still wrapped tightly around my middle. His fingers were still deep inside me and we were both breathing hard.

He was as tender in the wake of our shared vulnerabilities had he had been commanding before them. Even though neither of us expected to share so much so fast, I got the sense he wanted to use what had just passed between us as a stepping stone to even greater intimacy. It was as frightening as it was exciting, and for all the tenderness he was showing me now, I knew other emotions would soon join it.

He was riding the edge of something wild tonight.

I could feel it rising in him...

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Up next: **The Fantasy**. Marie and Logan both give in and share what they truly desire...


	3. The Fantasy

**[Marie]**

His fingers slipped from me soundlessly. I felt him shift, and from behind me, I heard the soft, wet sounds of his mouth as he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked at them greedily. He made a masculine noise of appreciation deep in his throat and a moment later he released me, peeling my fingers from the rail as he helped me to stand. Turning me around, he cupped my face in his big hands and kissed me; first so tenderly it brought tears to my eyes and then more ardently, more forcefully, until I was leaning against the rail and clutching at him for support.

He stepped back. "Strip for me. Here. Now." He saw the flash of hesitancy in my eyes. Someone might see. "Don't think. Just do it."

Sex voice. Low and husky and very much in command.

He moved to the table and fingered the pearls, running the strand through his fingers. "I wanna see you in these and nothin' else."

He watched, tongue on his lip, while I stepped from the rail, drew my shirt up and off and then stepped out of my skirt. I stood before him then, naked. Scared. Excited beyond anything I could possibly imagine. Wrapping the string of pearls around the two fingers he'd had inside me, he crooked them at me.

"C'mere."

I came. His eyes were wild and his color was high. There was a tension in him, a tightness around his mouth and in the rigidity of his stance. Reaching out, he stroked my throat with his pearl-wrapped fingers, trailing them down over my breast to my nipple. They were smooth and warm against my skin, already carrying the heat of his body. He pulled his hand away.

"Undress me."

My hands shook as I tugged his shirt from his jeans and pulled it off over his head. I dropped it at my feet and trailed my fingers down his thickly muscled arms. I bent to lave his flat dark nipple with my tongue while I worked on his belt, tugging a little at the buckle that always makes me so damned wet. Tiny flickers, a scrape of my teeth. He hissed as I lowered his zipper and pushed his jeans down. His erection bobbed as he stepped out of the worn denim, but he didn't kick them away. We both knew why.

I was already starting to kneel before I felt his hand on my shoulder exerting a gentle downward pressure. His other hand – the one with the pearls still twined around his fingers – was wrapped around his base, offering himself to me. "In your mouth, darlin'. Suck me."

On my knees, I buried my face in his coarse curls and breathed him in, unable to get enough of his intoxicating scent. I nuzzled him, little kisses both on his cock and on the long blunt fingers holding it. I wrapped my arms around him, resting my hands just below the small of his back and held his eyes while I took just the tip in my mouth and swirled my tongue over it. He tasted the way the ocean smelled, like salt and freedom and power. I thought of the pearls, thought of _his_ pearls... and made a decision.

This wasn't something I wanted him to do _to_ me. This is something I wanted him to do _with_ me. Shared eroticism. I moved my hand to touch the one he had wrapped around the base of his erection. Stroking his fingers. Stroking the pearls. I pulled back, held his eyes a long time and whispered just one word to him. "More."

The spark of understanding passed between us and whatever reservation he might have had left melted away. His hand left his thick flesh to stroke my lips with the pearls before he guided my mouth back to his tip and slipped himself inside. In a husky whisper, he told me exactly how he wanted me to suck him while he stimulated himself with his hand. Pearls on his cock. Pearls touching my lips, stretched wide around his girth.

He tickled my skin with the necklace, dragging it over my sensitive flesh while I sucked him. His breathing grew more harsh, more ragged, until he finally pulled away, gasping. His chest heaved as he jerked me to my feet and shoved me toward the railing. I felt the tickle of the pearls on my back and then his warm palm pressed flat, positioning me exactly how he wanted. Bending over me now, lips to my ear. "Grab the rail. Don't let go."

I felt his breath first, hot and moist on my back and then his mouth on me, trailing wet kisses down my spine. His hands were everywhere, stroking my sides, caressing my breasts, teasing between my legs. The pearls followed in their wake, warm and smooth and slick against my sweaty skin. He straightened behind me, moving up to kiss my neck, molding his body to mine. I gasped as I felt him slide the pearls back and forth between my legs until they shone in the moonlight with a different luster, glistening wetly.

They left a cool, wet trail over my belly as he slid them up and then back down, penetrating me with a pearl-wrapped finger before he pushed the entire length inside me and covered my sex with his palm, holding them in while he rocked against me. As he felt me start to shake, he drew away from me and took the pearls with him, pulling me away from the rail and pushing my back up against the wall that divided our balcony from the one next door.

He kissed me hard and lifted me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. The pearls left a wet trail across my skin as he moved me into position, bent his knees and entered me in one long, smooth stroke. I came before he was all the way in and he swallowed my cry of pleasure, letting me ride it out, trapped between his strong body and the unforgiving wall, before he started thrusting.

"This way..." he panted against my lips. "Wanted you this way." The tendons in his neck were standing out as he worked for his pleasure – and mine. "Wanted to see—" his breath hitched. "See your face... so beautiful..." He pounded harder. "Jesus, come on... come for me, darlin'." I clutched him harder, his skin was sweaty and slick, the hair at his nape was wet with it. "I wanna feel you come on me."

I did, stifling my cry against his shoulder as the world spun away and there was only him and me and pleasure so intense I thought I was dying. His head dropped to my shoulder and his muscles bunched and flexed as he chased after his own release, grunting with each wild thrust. "The pearls... Take 'em... take me... Christ!" He was shaking, straining hard, murmuring love words, sex words that made no real sense. I pushed at his chest harder and harder until his eyes opened, glassy with pleasure when they met mine. Gritting his teeth. "You don't hafta-"

"Let me." I pushed harder. "Let me."

"Fuck... do it. Do it!" He pulled out and I slid down the wall, kneeling before him. His forearm rested on the wall above me, pearls clenched tight in his fist as his other hand stroked his cock, wet with me, wet with himself. His hand bumped my chin as I moved closer; I felt the slick tip of his erection touch the hollow of my throat. My fingers dug into his thighs and he groaned as he came in long wet pulses, eyes open but unfocused as he gave himself over to the moment.

Time seemed to slow. I was blushing as he helped me to my feet, embarrassed by my behavior, worried what he might think of me, worried my actions had revealed far too much about my true feelings for him. I felt my eyes grow watery.

His hands were trembling when he reached for my face, cupping my cheeks and lifting my chin to meet his gaze. I searched his eyes, looking for signs of recrimination and found only wonderment and tenderness. He kissed me then, so soft and gentle I thought my heart would break with it. He lifted his head and met my eyes. I saw understanding there. He knew it wasn't something I'd done lightly and there was a masculine fire there too, pride that I'd allowed him to take me to a place I'd never been, respect for the strength it took for me to be so free with him with all the history between us.

I shivered as I felt his semen trickle between my breasts. Without taking his eyes from mine, he tucked the necklace into my palm, raised his hands to my chest and slowly rubbed the pearly fluid into my skin instead of wiping it away. The gesture was tender and erotic and incredibly possessive, branding me his.

The scent of his pleasure, earthy and strong, rose from my skin and his hands as he took the necklace from my fingers and whispered, "Turn around."

I turned in his embrace and he drew the necklace into place, fastening it carefully before pressing the most exquisitely tender kiss to the nape of my neck. He turned me to face him. His eyes never left mine as he stroked my neck with a fingertip. "Beautiful, darlin'. I knew it would be."

He didn't elaborate. I didn't need him to.

Without another word, he entwined his fingers with mine and drew me back inside.

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Feedback is love. :)

**Author's note:** Whew! I'm still working on wrangling the last of the smut bunnies into submission. (Somehow I'm fairly certain I haven't seen the last of them.) Heh. But while they're (playing/multiplying) on the back burner, we're finally gonna dig into my new W/R novel. I'm crazy excited to share this one!

Up next:

**Shine Against Me  
**_Logan and Marie talk about pornography… and then things get crazy._

This story is a lot more complex than that, but I don't want to give too much away just yet… It's gonna be a long, crazy ride. I think it's currently around 30ish chapters and it's not quite finished yet.

Clearly, still certifiable!


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